Dream Log: November 12, 2002

I don't usually do this daylog thing, but this is the first dream that I've woken up from in a long while, and it's relevant to noders everywhere.

First of all, it's important to understand that I live in the hood, and our next door neighbor has a habit of playing booty bass music at ridiculous times (3 AM, 10 AM, 4 PM, 9 PM... sometimes I wonder if/when he sleeps). Our walls are pretty solid, but our closets butt up against each other with only a thin wall in between, and that's where he chose to set his sound system up. Now, I like hip-hop (as some of my nodes will indicate), but I don't actually get to hear the music from this guy. What I get to hear is the same buzzing bass effect you get when you're walking past a black sports car with polished silver rims and a gold chain around the license plate. Needless to say, this sucks. When he first started partying up in the middle of the night, I couldn't get him to answer his door (guess he couldn't hear my knocking), so I ended up calling Housing to get him to quiet down. And he did... for a while.

Anyway, I went to bed at around 2:30 AM last night, in a pretty good ego mode after getting my first 3C! writeup. A few minutes pass, and suddenly: BOOM! BABOOM BOOM! BOOM! BABOOM BOOM! I jumped out of bed, ran into the hallway in my boxers, banged violently on the door for a few seconds, and came back in. The music was turned down a tad, but not by much: I had to bang on the wall a few times to get the neighbor to shut up. The entire ordeal got my blood flowing again, and I had to toss and turn for a while just to get to sleep.

I was thinking to myself, "This is bollocks. Next time he starts this shit, I'm getting the campus directory out and calling him up."

So, the next morning, BOOM! BABOOM BOOM! BOOM! BABOOM BOOM! I grumbled myself out of bed and opened up my laptop to get the dickhead's phone number, but after I had already pressed the power button, I realized the computer was already on. For some reason, it began to restart.

Then, just to keep the Hollywood element going, an instant message window popped up. (I haven't logged in yet, mind you). It was from one of the l33t h4x0rs themselves, whose name I can't remember now (it began with a "J").

Then, he begins rattling off information he's gathered about me, which turns out to be entirely false but still annoying. He has an extensive dossier on my father saying that the old man is 89 and a native of New York (both wrong). As he says this, I flip through a bunch of legal pads that happen to be lying around my desk (dunno why, I never use legal pads IRL), trying to find something. Anything. The pads were all covered in equations and notes from a million classes I've taken over the last 14 years: one of them even looked like a roll book.

Then I woke up and logged onto E2 to node all of this. I'm convinced that there's some sort of eloquent metaphor for the nodegel in here, but I can't seem to pull it out. My main questions are:

Who's the hacker supposed to be?

Why was he giving me lots of incorrect information about myself?

Why all the friggin' legal pads?

And why was I looking through them?

Maybe I'll put two and two together after work today, but for now, I've gotta get going.

I've dreamt of guns. I've dreamt I shot someone with a shotgun (it did not leave the effect a shotgun would, though)... This scares me. Violence in my dreams... I see them all like a film; different camera angles, from third or first person, and close-ups. I want to make films: I think this is where the violence stems from, not that I've seen it in other movies.

The strange thing is that most of these dreams were not nightmares, I did not feel afraid. When I woke up after seeing a girl in the jungle get shot twice with large spears and a tiger (smoldering and on fire) lay down next to her, and from hunting a gorilla from above while a man and the burning tiger chased it below, the lasting effect was of surprise: surprise I was not upset at what I had seen or done. I was happy to have had a flying dream where I was not constantly falling, and I wondered why the ocean I stood in had no temperature or moisture; but I was more interested than frightened.

I've been an furry lioness (this is who I shot the guy as), and a bystander in a drug deal gone wrong (many people were shot here, the gunfire was immense): What the hell??? I do not read into my dreams, but ever so often I'll see something that should disturb be and wonder. Are these my movies arranging themselves in my head? -or are these other people's movies, imprinted on me subconsciously, effecting my desensitized mind?

Do you dream in colour? In different angles? Do you smell, touch, taste... see blood?